


Bar Sinister

by TheWalkingBucky



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Depressing Sex (yes it's a thing! and it's awesome), Explicit Language, F/M, Hurt Daryl Dixon, Negan (Walking Dead) Being an Asshole, Negan (Walking Dead) is an automatic warning, Slow Burn, Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-04 01:39:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12760491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWalkingBucky/pseuds/TheWalkingBucky
Summary: You make a deal with Negan to save your friend Daryl’s life. But when you can’t give Negan the child he wants, you ask Daryl to help make it happen.





	1. Chapter 1

It was stupid of Daryl to return to Alexandria. You knew it. Rick knew it. Everyone knew it. But fuck if he wasn’t a stubborn asshole. Even Rick couldn’t talk him round. You knew there’d been no chance of him staying at The Kingdom in the middle of their endless LARP game but you thought he’d at least have the sense to go to the Hilltop.

But he hadn’t. He’d come back to the place he felt he never fit in. He’d come home, to the house you shared with him. It was quieter now, with Eugene and Carol gone, Maggie at the Hilltop and Glenn… well, you were glad to have Daryl back.  He didn’t talk about what happened with Negan – _of course he didn’t_ – but you could see that whatever it was had taken a massive toll on him. He’d stayed strong and fought Negan relentlessly but there was an exhaustion to him. A loneliness.

He should’ve gone to the Hilltop. The thing he needed most right now was Maggie’s forgiveness.

But he was here.

And the familiar sound of Lucille banging against the gates told you that Negan was here too.

 _“Shit,”_ you whispered under your breath, running towards the main gate to see Daryl running in the opposite direction. “Hide good,” was the only thing you had time to say as Rick tried to stall a few more seconds for him. But the sun wasn’t on your side. Eric’s shadow formed a silhouette against the gate and taking any longer to open it would have seemed suspicious.

You slowed to a halt by Rick’s side, looking over your shoulder to see if Daryl had made it somewhere safe. You couldn’t see him anymore, so you had to hope so. “They can’t take him back,” you whispered, as Michonne, Carl and Rosita joined you. Negan’s presence was like a beacon, calling everyone to line up before him. Tara and the others weren’t far behind.

“They won’t,” Rick promised, as Negan marched into Alexandria with the Saviours in tow. Simon was with him and in your limited experience, seeing both of them together meant one thing. People were going to die.

“Now we have a BIG problem!” Negan bellowed, swinging Lucille before resting her on his shoulder.

“What problem?” Rick asked, like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“That day when I was kind enough to bring your son back after he killed three of my men and then one of your people tried to _shoot me_? Well it just so happens that while I was here showing _mercy_ on your people Rick, Daryl managed to find his way out of his cage.”

The tension was suffocating, or perhaps that was just because you scarcely dared to breathe. You wouldn’t realise until later that your body was so tense it was painful. That your stiffened spine and wide, unblinking eyes would’ve given the game away if everyone hadn’t been so focused on the exchange between Negan and Rick. Negan walked right up to him, so their faces were only an inch apart and stared him down. Every silent second was a beat closer to death.

“Where is he Rick?”

“I don’t know,” Rick answered, but Negan just continued to stare. No – _glare_. He wasn’t fucking around today. “We thought you had him. We didn’t know any different until just now.”

“You know if I find him here,” Negan started, his words slow so that everyone hung on them. So that the gravity of the situation would sink in. His last words were a whisper: _“I’m gonna have to kill him.”_

Rick stared back, taking his own time. Measuring his words; keeping his voice steady. “He’s not here.”

“Then you won’t mind if we take a look around,” Negan said with a tight smile but there was no humour in his eyes. He was furious. He barked at Simon to take the others and search everywhere. They swarmed Alexandria like a plague while your group stood silently, not even daring to glance at each other in case Negan noticed. In these moments, you were scared he’d read your mind.

Negan was staring through Rick like he was trying to do just that. Rick’s gaze never faltered, for better or worse. He’d changed since the shitstorm that happened the last time Negan was here, when Olivia and Spencer were murdered. You couldn’t tell if Rick’s steely gaze made him look more guilty or less, but soon it didn’t matter.

“WE’VE GOT HIM!”

It was a few seconds more before Negan dragged his eyes away from Rick’s. He had one of those looks like, _I’m not angry, I’m just disappointed. But also I AM fucking angry and you’re ALL gonna pay._

You could hear Daryl thrashing and yelling before you even turned the corner, running alongside the rest of the group. Daryl hit someone but three more guys were on him in seconds and fought him until he was on his knees. He’d been hiding in the infirmary, where Denise used to work.

“DO IT THEN YA PIECE OF SHIT!” Daryl screamed at Negan.

“Do _not_ make me angrier or I’ll have to take it out on one of these people and make you _watch it_ ,” he grinned – but it wasn’t Negan’s usual cocky smile. It was like he was on fire inside.

“We didn’t—” Rick started, only to fall silent when Negan pointed Lucille at him.

_“No.”_

You were shaking. Seeing Negan’s version of justice wasn’t something you ever wanted to witness again. But with _Daryl_? He was one of the few people left in this world still worth a damn. Negan had taken away so many people, but he couldn’t take Daryl.

You wouldn’t let him.

“Negan, wait,” you cut in, moving between Daryl and the rest of the group so you were face to face with Negan.

“What did I _just_ say?” he said. What _did_ he just say? Something about the next person who talks… Fuck.

 _“Don’t—”_ Rick started, but you cut him off.

“You don’t need to do this. We can make a deal.”

“We already _had_ a deal and as your people have proven time and time again, you just can’t listen!”

“I’ll be your wife,” you said, trying and failing to stop your voice from trembling. Daryl had mentioned he had a bunch of wives. Maybe he’d want one more.

It was your turn to be stared down now and you had no idea how Rick looked so calm while it happened to him. For a few harrowing seconds before he spoke, you felt possessed by him. And then he breathed out a laugh. “You’re pretty. You’ve got a pretty face. But next to my wives you’d look like the ugly duckling went for a swim and ended up in some poor asshole’s toilet!” he said loudly, and some of his cronies laughed along with him. You scowled as he walked up to you, putting his face close to yours. “So tell me why I’d want to spend my valuable time screwing you when I could be screwing any one of the wives I already have?”

“Because I’ll give you a child,” you answered, and this time your voice didn’t tremble. You were pissed and this wasn’t about Daryl being in the firing line anymore. Negan had turned it around onto you. This was about winning his shitty little games.

He chewed his lip, intrigued at the way you’d raised the stakes. But he didn’t speak, so you continued. “You want all your beautiful wives getting fat and covered in stretch marks? And that’s just before the baby comes. It’ll never feel the same afterwards. Their tits will leak all over their pretty clothes and they won’t have time for you anymore. That what you want?”

“What makes you think I even want a child?”

“Because you’re still listening. Because you need someone to take over everything you’ve built,” you answered, but you knew those reasons weren’t good enough even as they were leaving your mouth. So you scrambled together something that once spoken, you were never able to take back. “Because with my baby in your arms, Rick will be powerless. He won’t do anything to put my child at risk. Alexandria will provide for you as long as it’s standing. And Daryl? If I’m pregnant, I’m gonna need help. We’ve had two women in this group get pregnant and both of them died from it. I’ll need a doctor. If I’m pregnant, he’ll do anything you ask.”

“Is that right?” he grinned, eyes full of glee. Rick didn’t dare speak again but you heard his sigh. The angry one reserved for when someone had fucked up and given him a whole new set of problems. It was a sigh usually spent on Eugene or Gabriel – never on you. Until now. You’d tied everyone’s hands in the space of a few seconds and given Negan the rope.

“Just don’t kill anyone. Don’t hurt Daryl.”

“See that I _cannot_ do. Dwight, get over here!” Negan called, finally taking a step back from you and owning the space around him again. You risked a glance at Daryl and he looked livid. “Funny story, something similar happened to Dwighty-Boy here, didn’t it Dwight? See, Dwight thought he could run away with his wife and my fiancé but then he saw the light and came back to me. But he _still_ broke the rules and to stop me killing him, his wife became _my_ wife. You see his face? Dwight, show her your face.”

Dwight tucked his lanky blonde hair behind his ear, staring ahead with his back too straight. He looked dead inside. Is this what you were condemning Daryl to? Even if it was, it couldn’t be worse than being dead.

Right?

“See Dwight still needed to learn his lesson and RULES ARE RULES,” he bellowed, patting the side of Dwight’s head. Dwight’s eyes found yours but there was nothing there. He was just cold. “So he got the iron like everyone else. And now everything’s gone back to normal. Ain’t that right Dwighty?”

“That’s right,” he answered in a hollow voice. Negan couldn’t be enjoying this any more if he tried.

“So I can spare Daryl’s life and every one of the pitiful lives here but _Daryl_ cannot go unpunished. And as for the matter of Rick hiding a fugitive—”

“He didn’t know,” you quickly interrupted. The memory of Rick almost hacking off Carl’s arm was burned into your mind. You didn’t need to see an amputation today. “He was telling the truth. I snuck Daryl in on my own.”

He stared through you and just when you thought he was going to call you out on your bullshit he grinned. “Daryl! You got a girlfriend you didn’t tell me about? And after we became such good friends; that’s just _rude_.” He walked up to Daryl and crouched down so their faces were level. In a quiet voice (but everyone else was so silent that ‘quiet’ still seemed like he was shouting) he said, “But I can see why you’d keep this one to yourself since she _clearly_ has a fetish for assholes,” he was about to stand up but then turned back to Daryl with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Wait, was I just being _literal_? Well… I guess I’ll have to wait ‘til our wedding night to find out.”

Daryl yanked against the men holding him and started to yell something but before he could even get a word out Negan punched him to the ground. Then he took the same hand, without even unclenching his fist, and stroked your cheek.

“So does my new fiancé have a name?”

You thought about Abraham. You thought about the few horrifying seconds he’d left Glenn in agony before he finished it. And then you thought about Daryl. You couldn’t stand to watch the same thing happen to him.

So as much as you hated yourself for it, you stared him straight in the eye when you answered.

_“Negan.”_


	2. Chapter 2

The heat of the furnace made what would otherwise be a cold storage room become suffocating. You were so close that the flames made your skin itch. Negan wanted you to have a front row view of what he was about to do to Daryl, who was bound to a chair in the centre of a circle. Negan was walking down the stairs, making some big speech about rules and civilization which you were ignoring because all that mattered right now was Daryl.

 _“I’m sorry,”_ you mouthed but his expression never changed. He was just staring right at you and as was often the case with Daryl, you had no idea what that look meant. All you knew was that you felt stripped of your skin, with Daryl’s eyes burning more than the itch that was crawling up your neck. If the heat was bothering Dwight, he didn’t let it show. Just stared into the fire while the iron started to glow orange.

“—this _lovely lady_ swayed my heart.”

Suddenly Negan’s arm was around your shoulder, leading you into the circle. Daryl tried to pull against his bonds which only made Negan’s smile grow wider. “Who are you darling?”

“I’m Negan,” you answered, and Daryl stopped fighting.

“That’s right…” Negan said quietly, only to you. His tongue trailed along his teeth as he grinned at you. Somehow his eyes were soft and alive all at once. For a brief second you were the only one in the room – or it felt that way, until he spun around to face the others. “Y/N is not only going to be my new wife but she’s also going to be the mother of my child! The Saviours are not temporary. We’re building a _future!_ So as a wedding present I’m going to show mercy on this pathetic sack of shit and instead of beating him to a pulp, I’m just going to burn his face a little because that’s the kind of _stand-up guy_ I am.”

Negan moved over to Dwight and you fell back with the rest of the people unfortunate enough to be at the front. He slowly pulled on a thick black glove and took the iron from him. The room fell silent. The only sound was the scuff of Negan’s shoes against the stone floor as he approached Daryl. He smirked as Daryl glared up at him and then he looked at you.

“Ready to hear my vows?” he grinned before slowly turning back to Daryl and pressing the iron to his face.

He tried so hard not to scream. When he did it filled the room, bouncing off every wall. A curse melted into nonsensical babble as he thrashed against the chair, like his brain was being fried along with his skin. You tried to look away but someone grabbed you from behind and forced you to face him.

The worst part was that he didn’t pass out. He was fully conscious as Negan tore the iron away from his face, pulling melted flesh with it. He was panting in a way that you’d never heard from a human before and for a moment you wondered if he _had_ gone mad. If maybe the pain had been too much or the heat really had damaged his brain. The same person who forced you to watch was stopping you from running to him, gripping your arms tight behind your back.

“Well look – at – _you,_ ” Negan laughed, holding the iron out to Dwight without taking his eyes off Daryl. “You know, it’s a damn shame you had to be so stubborn because you can take a blow and keep on FIGHTING!”

The room fell silent again, permeated only by Daryl’s panting and your strangled sobs. The furnace that’d been irritating you only a minute ago felt very cold now. Negan chewed his lip, giving a satisfied chuckle as his eyes finally fell back to you. The smile didn’t vanish from his face but it _did_ change from something malicious to something softer.

“Doc, clean up the mess that used to be his face best you can,” he said, without the trace of humour that usually clung to his every word. “I’ve got a honeymoon to enjoy.”

He didn’t even look at Daryl when he said it. Like there was only so much pain he could enjoy before he got bored.

He yelled for everyone to go back to work and the hands that had been gripping your arms finally let you go. But whoever it was stayed right behind you as Negan walked up to you both. You were totally focused on watching Doctor Carson untie Daryl’s ropes but Negan left you to your trance, ignoring you completely as he spoke to the person behind you.

“Get her cleaned up,” he said, his voice taking on a sultry tone. His hand brushed your thigh, just to move past you and settle on the person who’d been forcing you to watch. _“You know how I like it.”_

“Come on,” said the mystery person but it wasn’t a voice you were expecting. It was soft and sympathetic. A woman’s voice. She pulled you away from the scene as two of Negan’s thugs helped Daryl to his feet and half-dragged him in the direction of Doctor Carson’s office. At least, you hoped that’s where they were taking him. _“Come on,”_ the woman prompted again, tugging you a little more forcefully up the stairs and down a hallway.

The woman was a brunette with a gentle face and tight black dress and you realised that she must’ve been one of Negan’s wives. But there was sympathy in her eyes, not cruelty – so you had to wonder why she’d force you to watch that horrific scene.

“ _You made me look_. Why did you make me look?”

“It would’ve been worse if you didn’t,” was the only answer she gave as she pulled you into a room through a pair of mahogany doors. The room was almost cosy, bathed in both lamplight and candlelight, with plush chairs and cushions scattered everywhere. There were even potted plants.

It was Negan’s harem.

“There couldn’t be anything worse than that,” you said, as you let her lead you through to the bathroom. She took your face in her hands and dragged your attention to her, away from the images of Daryl that were stuck in your head.

“With Negan, there’s _always_ worse. Now lie on the towel.”

It was those words that stopped you putting up a fight as the woman, Tanya, took out one of the many waxing kits dumped into an overflowing cardboard box filled with a rainbow of different brands. No one rushed to salvage waxing strips when the worst happened. Lucky Negan.

You stripped your filthy clothes and threw them to the floor. They smelled like smoke. No, like _burning_. You lay down on the towel, glad to be rid of them as Tanya started to spread wax over your legs. But you weren’t rid of it. The smell of Daryl’s burning skin had clung to your hair.

You hated yourself for flinching at the pain after what he’d been through. Tanya was humming to herself to fill the awkward silence you’d created. You didn’t want to be lying down getting your leg hair yanked out, you wanted to be with the doctor, making sure Daryl was alright.

“Turn over. We’re on the clock. Negan will be back for you in an hour,” she said as she pressed her fingers into your hip and all but yanked you onto your front.

“Will Daryl—” you started, only to stop short when she grabbed your calf and spread your legs apart, analysing how much work your pubic hair was going to need. It was starting to piss you off, being prepped like a turkey for Negan’s Thanksgiving. So you raised your voice, almost shouting it at her.

“Will Daryl be OKAY?!”

“No,” came a thick, deeper voice from over your shoulder. You’d been so lost in your thoughts you hadn’t even noticed there was another woman in the bathroom.

_“Amber—”_

“She asked,” Amber spat back, gripping a glass of whiskey. “He won’t be okay. His face is going to be fucked up. It won’t move properly. And every time he feels it or he sees it, it’ll remind him of the mistake he made. Only _you’re_ the mistake. You’re the FUCKING mistake!”

You sat up ready to fight but Tanya’s firm hand guided you back down. _Had to be perfect for Negan._ “Amber’s boyfriend got the iron too. Negan found out she’d snuck away and slept with him.”

“He gave me a choice,” Amber said, “to go back to Mark and my mom and get put on the same job… or stay with him. And staying with him meant Mark got punished. It was my _fucking_ choice.”

“Now he refuses to speak to her—”

“He won’t even look at me. _He hates me._ ”

Clearly this beauty routine was commonplace to them, because you seemed to be the only one uncomfortable with being contorted into undignified positions while a stranger broke down and told you her life story.

“You need to run the bath, we’re running out of time,” Tanya told Amber, pulling one of your legs at an angle so she could start trimming down your overgrown pubic hair.

“Seriously, do I look like a piece of meat?” you snapped. “What’s next, are you going to season me? Stuff me?”

“No,” Amber said with a bitter laugh. “That’s Negan’s job.”


	3. Chapter 3

At first glance, Negan’s bedroom was just like the harem, bathed in both lamplight and candlelight. It sported the same plants and plush cushions, but the rest of the décor made it imposing. Stuffed animal heads stared at you. There were five paintings on the walls and all of them were illustrations of snakes. There was even a skull on the trophy shelf.

This, combined with the fact that all of his furniture was black, made the dimly lit room feel like it belonged to a Victorian ghost story.

 _“I know,”_ Negan whispered in your ear, his hand on your lower back. He was letting you ‘admire’ the room from the doorway. “You can hardly believe your luck. If I was you? I’d feel the same way. I’m sure it’s not like the pretty little house you shared with Daryl… that nice little suburban place with running water and flowerbeds,” he smirked, leading you towards the bed. Even the bed sheets were black.

“But you see this? This antique oak four-poster is where queens are made. Because as soon as you lay down with me in that bed, there ain’t nobody alive who’s gonna screw with you!” he stepped right in front of you, chewing his lip and grinning as you looked up at him. “And nobody alive who’s gonna _screw_ you… except for _me_. That clear darlin’?”

Spending the last hour being man-handled by his other wives didn’t do much to help your mood. You glared back at him, Daryl’s screams still echoing in your head. “Well I look like ‘the ugly duckling took a swim in someone’s toilet’, right? So who would want to?”

He held your gaze for a few seconds before slowly breathing a laugh. “ _Feisty._ You know that if I really meant that, you wouldn’t be here. That was just me seeing what you were made of and you passed the test. But unfortunately, the answer you just gave me _wasn’t_ an answer and I’m going to need to hear it coming from your mouth. You see, you have one rule, and that rule is you _cannot_ cheat on me. No sneaking out to find your ex-boyfriend and stealing a few minutes in a closet with his hand up your skirt. You stay with me and you’ll live like a god, but if you break our agreement? Then I’ll have to go back on that and you and Daryl will wind up dead and I don’t wanna have to make that happen. So… when I tell you that under no circumstances can another man – _or woman,_ I don’t judge – put their hands on you, you say…?”

“I won’t cheat on you.”

“That’s my girl.”

Negan left you staring at the bed. You heard him shutting the double doors behind you, making the room even darker, before the clink of glass told you he was pouring a drink. He told you to sit down, and for a second you thought about sitting alone on one of the armchairs. You thought about fighting him every step of the way. But that wasn’t going to do Daryl any good now and it wouldn’t help you either, so you sat on the sofa and scooted over to make space for him. When he turned around with two glasses in hand, his face didn’t betray whether he noticed your decision. He just laughed to himself and sat beside you while you fidgeted with your dress. Amber and Tanya wore fitted black dresses and as Negan’s wife, apparently you were expected to wear one as well. Except since you were a surprise, there wasn’t a dress prepared. So Tanya frantically found the one closest to your size and hoped for the best. The ‘best’ wasn’t very good. Standing up hadn’t been too bad, but sitting down was a nightmare.

Negan sat beside you, leaving a respectable amount of space between you both. That small courtesy came as a surprise; you hadn’t expected any kind of decency from him. Especially after he made his wives customise your body to his preference. If you were being honest, you’d expected to be face down on the bed already. But instead he was cradling his glass and staring at you in the dim light, making the mood seem softer. If it had been anyone other than Negan, it might’ve felt sensual. But this was the man who’d bludgeoned two of your friends to death with his bat.

“Don’t think I don’t recognise you,” he said, like he knew what you were thinking. Then again, how could you be thinking anything else? “You were there that night. When I had to set an example to your group. I didn’t want to—”

“Yes, you did,” you interrupted. His smile fell fast. “You were grinning from ear to ear the whole time. So, yes. You wanted to.”

His tongue traced his teeth, buying him time until he fixed that smile back on his face. “Well you have to admit, that was one hell of an example. It had been a long damn time since anyone had the balls to go up against me like Rick did. So maybe I had some fun with it. But the second guy, that Asian kid? That didn’t have to happen. That one was on Daryl. I explained the rules _very_ clearly. Hell, I don’t think I could’ve been clearer if I’d done a presentation.” He tilted his head, touching you for the first time since he sat down as he cupped your cheek and made you look at him. “I’m sure I look like a huge asshole to you but I can _assure you_ , I am not that much of a douche all the time, and especially not to my wives. That includes you, sweetheart.”

He brushed his thumb over your skin but you didn’t flinch or turn away. You held his gaze and slowly sipped your drink. After a moment, he pulled his hand away. “You’ve had a tough day. And to prove that I’m not the asshole you think I am, I’m gonna let you off the hook. We don’t have to do anything tonight that you’re not ready for. Hell, I won’t even touch you if that’s what you want.”

After spending an hour getting prepped for this, the thought of spending the night talking and having to go through all of this again tomorrow wasn’t very appealing. “Let’s just get it over with.”

Negan’s eyes narrowed and his voice took on a playful tone. “Now is that any way to speak to your new husband? And after I’ve made good on all of my promises to you, I’m starting to think you’re ungrateful.”

He draped his arm over the back of the sofa, claiming the space between you as his smile turned coy. “Is that true, Y/N? Are you ungrateful?”

“I’m _very_ grateful, Negan,” you replied, playing the game a little too sarcastically. He didn’t care, in fact he looked amused.

“Why don’t you show me how grateful you are?”?

It was like a cliché set up for a porno, but it broke the tension enough to allow you to give Negan what he wanted – which was for you to make the first move. You didn’t waste time with fake romance, just leaned forward and kissed him. You felt his thumb brushing your shoulder as he lay his other hand on your knee. His lips were hard but his technique was gentle, like he’d touched you a thousand times before and knew every inch. To give him his due, he wasn’t being selfish. He was taking his time and enjoying the pace you set.

Or maybe you were already giving the bastard more credit than he deserved.

You edged closer to him and he slid his hand little higher up your leg.

“Silky smooth,” he smiled, talking with his lips only an inch away from yours. “Something poor ol’ Daryl’s face will never be again.”

You pulled back, feeling like he’d just smacked you. _Definitely giving him too much credit._ You’d have to be careful not to get sucked in. He had all the right words and the smile to match, but beneath all the charm there was nothing but a twisted sadist with a god complex.

You drained the dregs from your glass and got up to refill it. “I don’t want to talk about Daryl.”

You heard Negan follow and felt him standing so close behind you that you were almost flush against his body. You refused to turn around.

“Why not? Sure, he might look like a dog ate half his face and maybe he’ll always carry that chip on his shoulder, but you _saved_ him. You STEPPED UP! While the others were content to watch me bash his brains in, you said ‘No, I’m going to do everything I can to stop this and if it gets me killed, so be it!’ You were the only one who gave a damn – and I’m going to make sure he _knows that_.”

It sounded honourable on the surface but you knew exactly what he meant. He was going to try and convince Daryl that the others never cared about him. You were sure that Daryl had grown enough to see through that bullshit but that didn’t stop you from worrying.

“How long were you two shakin’ sheets?” Negan asked, still standing behind you. You set your glass down while you hurried to come up with an answer. You and Daryl had only ever been friends. Sure, you felt close to him because he was a good man and you trusted him, but there was never anything romantic there. It worked in both of your favours to have Negan believe you’d been dating though. This deal wouldn’t look as appealing to him if he didn’t think he’d taken something Daryl wanted. But if you made up details for Negan and Daryl came up with something else, the façade would blow up in both your faces.

“I told you, I don’t want to talk about him,” you mumbled, and did the only thing you could think of to shut him up. You kissed him again. But this time, you put effort into it, hooking your thumbs beneath his waistband and pulling him against you.

He chuckled into the kiss but went with it anyway, setting his own glass down behind you and grabbing your hips. His stubble scraped your face; his fingers digging a little too hard but you gave back as good as you got. That morning you’d woken up grateful that Daryl was in the next room, back where he belonged in Alexandria. Now you were married to Negan and Daryl was lying in a hospital bed. Everything had gone to shit and tomorrow was going to bring a fresh day of hell.

But all you could do about it was kiss, and touch, and hope he didn’t bring Daryl back into the conversation. You didn’t want to remember the pain Daryl was in or how his skin had melted into the iron. Maybe you _had_ saved his life, but that was a cold comfort after all the shit that followed.

Negan broke through your racing thoughts and reclaimed your focus when he pulled down the zip at the back of the dress. “Show me what my generosity bought me…”

All you could do was try to keep your composure as you slipped the dress off your shoulders and pushed it down past your waist. His eyes followed it downwards: chest, breasts, stomach, hips – right down to the freshly waxed Brazilian he apparently favoured.

“Now _this_ is what a woman should look like. You know, I might’ve made some comments earlier but I was wrong – you are _not_ as unattractive as I first thought; not when you’ve got those clothes off. I am _very much_ going to enjoy this whole baby-making gig with you…” he stepped forward, fingertips brushing the strip of hair left between your legs. “And I’m gonna do my damn best to make sure you enjoy it too.”

He pulled off his leather jacket and draped it over the edge of the sofa. “Go lie down, sweetheart. Make yourself comfortable.”

You took a quick mouthful of the whiskey abandoned behind you before you climbed onto the bed and covered yourself with a pillow. A pair of glass eyes stared at you from the head mounted opposite the bed and it was disturbing enough to distract you from the rattle of Negan unfastening his belt and the soft thump of jeans being dropped on the sofa.

“Now, why would you cover that body up?” he said, much closer to the bed than you’d expected. Your gaze was pulled back to him as he grabbed the pillow from you and threw it on the floor. “This is my body now and I want to _look at it._ Spread your legs.”

You did as he asked and he put one hand on your knee to stop you closing back up as he stood over you, just as naked as you. His eyes were scrutinising your form but quickly settled on your pussy. He wrapped his other hand around himself, tugging as he knelt down. You couldn’t stop staring as he pressed his face against your thigh and closed his eyes, taking a slow, deep breath.

“Fresh as a goddamn daisy,” he laughed, his voice raspier than usual. You could see from the flex of his arm that he was stroking himself properly now. That he must be getting harder.

“Do you want this, darlin’?” he asked. You nodded in response. It was too late to back out now. “Tell me.”

“I want it.”

He grinned up at you, his cheek still against your thigh. “What do you want?”

Your answer was a whisper. “ _I want you to fuck me, Negan_. I want you to give me a baby.”

He laughed, staring at you for a few moments with that shit-eating grin on his face. “Hearing you say that does all kinds of nasty things to me.”

“You gonna make me beg?”

“No. Begging is beneath you,” he answered, licking his palm and stroking the length of his cock a couple more times as lubrication, before he spat on his fingers and rubbed them against your pussy. He didn’t waste any more time, kneeling between your legs and pressing his cock against you, finding your entrance and pushing forward slowly until your body had no choice but to yield and take him inside.

“Ugh, _FUCK!”_ you groaned, because Negan or not, it felt good. You widened your legs but he had other ideas, grabbing one of your calves and pulling it over his waist. You got the message and hooked both legs behind his back, hands gingerly wrapping around his neck. It’d been a while since you’d slept with a guy and apparently it showed.

“If I was Daryl and you were waiting for me at home, I would’ve screwed you ‘til you couldn’t walk. He got problems down there?” he asked between thrusts.

“He ate me out,” you lied, your rational mind being filtered out by Negan’s cock.

“I bet he did…” he said, giving one hard, unexpected jab and chuckling when you moaned. “Bet he could just fucking live down there. He good at it?”

_“Mmm…”_

“You come all over his face?”

 _“Oh fuck…”_ you breathed, eyes rolling back. There was something really fucking sexy about imagining Daryl with his face between your legs and it was so fucked up that Negan was helping you get off on that, but for some sick reason that made it even better.

He wrapped an arm under your back and rolled over, pulling you on top of him. You took over instinctively and rode him fast, ignoring the wide grin that split over his face because (as much as you hated to admit it) you were clearly enjoying yourself. He watched your breasts bounce, running a hand over one on the way up to your mouth. Then his hand was against your neck and his thumb tracing your lips. “Get it nice and wet, darlin’.”

You opened your mouth without a second thought and he pushed his thumb inside for you to suck and lick. He moaned, bucking his hips to help with your rhythm as he watched. A few moments later your mouth was left empty but your clit felt the benefit. He circled you with his thumb and slammed into you at the same time, watching the sweat bead on your chest and glimmer in the soft lighting.

“You gonna come for me?”

“Mm-hmm…” you hummed, riding him as hard as your focus allowed.

He watched closely, waiting until he could feel you tightening around him and see you hanging on the edge before he said, “Bet his face will never feel the same again…”

You shook your head, whispering, “Please don’t…”

He ignored you, rubbing your clit vigorously. He grabbed your hip with his other hand, keeping you anchored to him so his thrusts filled all your available space. It was an onslaught of pleasure and you were too close to stop yourself now.

“At least you’ll never have to feel that…”

_Slam._

“…hard…”

_Slam._

_“…rough…”_

_SLAM._

“…dead hunk of melted flesh against—”

It was too late and he fell silent, watching your body shake and groaning under his breath as you pulsed against his cock. “Fuck sweetheart, you’re something else…”

He rolled you off him, standing at the side of the bed and yanking you closer by your legs. He plunged back inside without warning, sliding in easily and pushing your knees up to your chest so he could get a deeper angle. He fucked you like he was going for gold, wrapped up in himself, watching his own cock disappear inside you faster and faster until the build-up became too much and he poured inside you, thrusting into you a little deeper than was comfortable. You stayed there, staring at the head of the antelope on the wall that was literally craning its neck to gaze at the bed. They were all staring at the bed. As he pulled his cock out until only the head remained and milked the last few drops into you, you made the bitter realisation that this wasn’t the bed where ‘queens were made’, it was the bed where conquests were won.

“You know, if you’re lucky…” he grinned, breathless and exhausted. “That might’ve just worked.”

He climbed off you and went to clean up in his private bathroom, leaving you to wonder which was worse: that he’d made you come while thinking of Daryl’s injuries or that you’d enjoyed fucking Negan in the first place.

“You can let yourself out,” he prompted from the doorway, wiping his softening cock clean with a towel. “My other wives will show you where you’re sleeping.”

You didn’t answer, just pulled the ill-fitting dress back on and zipped it up as far as you could reach. The only form of defiance you showed was to pull off the ridiculous high heels they’d put you in before you left his room and shut the doors firmly behind you.

You weren’t in the mood to go back to the women who’d rushed around trying to prepare you for this. Not yet. There was only one person you wanted to see.

You padded down the corridor, your bare feet barely making any noise. Once you were downstairs the cool tiles turned into dusty concrete. You had no idea where you were going, you just kept walking through the maze of corridors until you managed to stumble across someone. An older man with curly hair and a long, drawn face. Surprisingly, he looked sympathetic. He had soft eyes.

“You’re Negan’s new wife, aren’t you? You shouldn’t be wandering around.”

“I need to go to the infirmary.”

“You _need_ to go, do you?” he asked, nodding slowly to himself. “Did Negan tell you to go?”

“Yeah.”

“Well I _could_ take you there. Better just radio in with Negan first to make sure…” he said, unhooking the radio from his belt and hovering over the speaker button.

“He doesn’t want to be disturbed,” you said quickly, taking a step forward.

“Uh-huh. And I’m sure you’re telling the truth,” he replied, his eyes never leaving your face. “But still, better safe than sorry.”

“Wait!” You put your hand over the radio before the man could call it in, looking him in the eye and hoping he might just take pity on you. He clipped it back onto his belt and took a step back.

“You need to go back,” he said, keeping his voice soft. It wasn’t the kindness you’d wanted from him but it was all you were going to get, so you headed back to the stairs and turned the corner while he watched you leave. Once you were out of sight, you lingered on the steps until you heard him start walking again.

His footsteps were getting closer. You closed your eyes, hoping he wouldn’t go so far as to check the staircase. As you waited, you could feel something running down your thigh but before you could wipe it away, the man came around the corner.

“Do I need to take you back upstairs?” he asked. But just as he was about to take your elbow and lead you back up, he saw the drop of semen creeping towards your knee and let out a deep sigh. Instead of pushing you forward anyway, he took out a handkerchief and handed it to you. You would’ve refused it but he’d taken the tiniest step back and you thought maybe you could appeal to his sympathy. So you wiped your leg clean and he reached to take it back.

“I didn’t see you and you didn’t see me, got it?” he asked, and you nodded. You could tell he was on the verge of changing his mind as he shoved the handkerchief back in his pocket and stared you down. You didn’t dare move. His gaze fluttered to your thigh for a second and then he sniffed and looked away. “Your friend’s down the corridor. Take a left, then a right. The door’s ajar, you’ll find it.”

He didn’t wait to be thanked, just headed in the opposite direction to yours and let himself into one of the rooms. You didn’t waste any time, rushing down the corridors until you found the doctor’s office.

Part of you regretted coming the moment you breathed in the awful smell of burned flesh. Daryl’s hands and feet had been strapped down to the hospital bed (not that there was much chance of him trying to escape in that state) but his face was blocked from view by the doctor tending to him.

“Is he…?” you asked, and the doctor turned to look at you, exposing Daryl’s face in the process. Thankfully, the burned half was already dressed and hidden from view.

“I’m awake,” Daryl croaked, his voice strained after screaming. Despite the damage, he still sounded strong.

No… it wasn’t strength.

It was anger.

“Has he done it yet?” he asked, trying to turn his head to see you with the one eye that wasn’t wrapped in gauze. You stepped up to the bed to make it easier for him.

“Done what?”

“…got you pregnant.”

Your guilty expression probably said it all, the memory of imagining Daryl between your legs hitting you full force. You looked away, sick to your stomach that Negan had pushed Daryl’s pain into your pleasure. It was fucked up.

“I don’t know,” was all you could mumble. You could feel him staring.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked. You shook your head and he raised his voice. “What the hell were you thinking? You know you’ve fucked this up for all of us right?”

“He’s on a lot of painkillers,” the doctor cut in from the corner of his office, where he’d been doing a great job of pretending not to exist. “He might not be aware of what he’s say—”

“I know what I’m sayin’,” Daryl snapped, coughing with the effort of raising his voice. You rubbed his shoulder, as if that would help anything. “Nah, you’ve turned everything to shit,” he said, pulling away from you the best he could in his restraints. You stopped touching him. “Rick was gettin’ ready to fight this asshole and you had to go and be a damn hero. You always do this. You think you ain’t good enough so you do dumb fucking shit to try and prove yourself. Least when I was brought here, I didn’t give the prick that killed our friends the satisfaction of winning. But you been here five minutes and you already let him between your legs. Is this what you wanted? Did you _want_ to fuck him?”

You glared at him, but didn’t want to add insult to injury by yelling in his fucking face. Besides, you weren’t sure how defiant you could be after the way you’d enjoyed yourself.

“Goodnight Daryl,” you hissed, heading straight for the door.

“Woah, woah, woah…”

It wasn’t Daryl. It was Negan and he was standing right in front of you. “What the hell are you doing here, Y/N?”

“I was just—”

“I _know_ what you were doing. Didn’t I tell you to go back to the rest of my girls?”

You nodded and went to move past him, but he put his arm out, leaning against the doorframe and blocking your path. “I really think we need to make the rules clear here. So from now on, you don’t speak to Daryl unless _I say_ you can.”

You opened your mouth to argue but he held a finger up to silence you. “Now, I’m in a good mood because I just had some _very_ good sex,” he grinned, putting both hands on your waist. “But you do not want to make me angry or Daryl’s recovery process is gonna be _real_ long.”

You glanced over at Daryl but his eyes were fixed on Negan now, like he was imagining all the horrible ways he wanted to kill him. Negan raised his voice, making it clear he was talking to everyone in the room.

“Doctor Carson, tell Y/N here what happens if Daryl’s fucked up face doesn’t get treated properly.”

“It could get infected, which would be potentially life-threatening,” Carson replied, sounding a lot more annoyed now that Negan was in the room.

“Especially if I decided we couldn’t spare the antibiotics,” Negan smiled. “See, Daryl’s in a sensitive state right now. He needs retraining. Don’t you Daryl?”

Daryl continued to glare and after a short stare-down, Negan laughed. “See what happens when a mutt gets out of his cage? You have to start from the _very beginning_. So, I better not find you speaking to him again. That clear?”

You finally looked away from Daryl and back at Negan. _“It’s clear.”_

“Good. Now go to bed.”

You stared at him for a second longer but then left the room without looking back. When you got back to the harem, you saw Tanya, Amber and a redhead who introduced herself as Frankie, had waited up for you. Tanya grabbed a glass of scotch from the table and rushed over to you, wrapping an arm around you and leading you further into the room. They were all dressed in lingerie which you assumed was their only choice of pyjamas. You spotted a few choices that’d been laid out for you, but none of them mentioned it and you weren’t in the mood right now.

Tanya stroked your back as she handed you the glass and took the shoes from you. “Was it alright?”

You looked at her helplessly.

_“…I don’t know.”_


	4. Bonus Scene!

“Well, that was dramatic. Give us a minute, would you Doc?” Negan smiled as he walked into the room. Doctor Carson obliged, storming past without a word while Negan wandered around, looking at the various instruments he’d used to fix up Daryl’s face. Daryl glared at him, hoping the silence would suffocate them both. Negan would be the first to die; the bastard couldn’t live without the sound of his own voice.

“I’m sure you’re wondering what happened to the last Doctor Carson,” Negan started, speaking slowly so he could relish every word. He spun around to face Daryl, ready to savour the expression on his face. “Well, that’s on you too. See, when the _old_ Doctor Carson let you out of the hole, Sherry ran off and got herself killed. Thanks to you, I lost one of my FAVOURITE WIVES!”

It was subtle, Daryl was trying to hide it, but there was pain there. It looked delicious. “Oh, you didn’t know? She got herself torn apart by the dead and Dwight had to watch the whole thing. _You_ cost me a wife, so,” he held his arm out, gesturing to the door you’d left from, “fair is fair. You took mine, I took yours. And just between us men…? She was a _very_ enthusiastic experience. Not as good as Sherry – but _pretty damn close._ ” 

Negan’s dragged his tongue over teeth, eyes shining from the thrill of tormenting Daryl. Daryl was trying to keep it together but he was breathing like a rabid dog, his balled up fists twisting beneath his restraints. He clenched his teeth and spat, “Why’d you make her look dumb? You dressed her up like a doll. It don’t even fit.”

Negan sat on the edge of the bed, laughing under his breath. “You’re right, that black dress didn’t do anything for her. But just you _wait_ until you see the outfit I’ve got in mind! You’ll _love_ it. Besides… when she stripped herself naked for me?” he let out a low whistle. “If I trusted my men to keep their dicks in their pants, I’d keep her naked all damn day. That dress is a _crime_!”

Negan grinned and rested his hand on Daryl’s knee, letting that thought sink in. Daryl tried to pull away but the restraints were too tight. There was nothing he could do about it.

“I’m gonna get us out of this,” he hissed. “And when I do, I’m gon’ kill you.”

Negan’s face had fallen, but it only took him a few seconds to fix his smile back in place. “Now that’s some BIG TALK. Sounds like you’re trying to take yet _another_ wife from me! Is that what you’re doing Daryl?”

“She ain’t your wife.”

“ _Really_? Because that’s the only thing keeping _both of you_ alive right now!”

Daryl’s eyes burned, his fists straining to beat Negan to a pulp. After a moment of admiring Daryl’s fury, Negan sighed and leaned in closer, cradling Daryl’s bandaged cheek like he was comforting a friend.

“I know it must be hard. Hell, when we were making love in my bed, she was telling me all about how you ate her out last night. You must feel pretty damn stupid for not sticking your tiny prick in there when you had the chance, right?” He patted the side of Daryl’s head – which was less like a pat and more like a series of slaps. A few seconds passed before blood seeped through the clean bandages, but luckily it meant that the confusion on Daryl’s face was quickly replaced with pain – and that was what Negan was consumed with. Everything else went unnoticed.

Once he’d seen that, he pulled back and straightened himself up. “I want to apologize for what happened earlier. Y/N running in like that. Here you are, trying to recover from me melting your face off… your freshly-fucked ex is the last person you’re gonna want to see. After all, she’s the reason you’re in this mess, right? The others were content to let you die with dignity until she opened her damned mouth. Still… you won’t have to worry about any of that! Because I’m gonna make sure you don’t have to see her anymore.”

“Nah,” Daryl said, panic glinting in his eyes for the first time. He was like an ant beneath Negan’s boot, all chained up and broken. “You can’t do that.”

Negan leaned in close and whispered, “Don’t you worry, Daryl. I’m gonna keep her _real_ busy.”

Daryl started to yell and curse, thrashing against his restraints as Negan headed for the door.

“Doc!” Negan bellowed. “Give Daryl a sedative, would you? He’s got himself all _worked_ up!”

“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!” Daryl screamed. Negan just flipped Daryl off over his shoulder without looking back, his face split into a huge grin as he left Doctor Carson to reluctantly grab a syringe.


	5. Chapter 5

Six months. Six negative results. Six reasons why your deal with Negan was worthless.

You were sitting on the sofa in the harem, with Frankie on one side of you and Tanya on the other, each wearing their skin-tight black dresses. And then there was you, in the floaty (but still uncomfortably short) white dress that Negan had one of the workers sew especially for you. You were pretty sure the material it was made from used to be a set of curtains, but it wasn’t like wearing it was optional. It was a uniform. A reminder that Negan could enjoy you at the click of his fingers. A reminder that the Saviours were the “future”.

The future that was meant to be growing in your stomach. Except the pregnancy test that Negan had thrown onto the table in front of you showed ‘negative’ for the sixth time. His eyes were burning holes into you and you didn’t dare meet his gaze. Even the girls either side of you were tense, both of them holding one of your hands.

After two long minutes, Frankie tried to break the silence. “It can take a while. Six months isn’t—”

“HEY! Did I ask for your input?” Negan snapped. You squeezed their hands. “Go see Doctor Carson. Tell him to prep for a _full_ examination. If we don’t have the equipment he needs, we’ll _get_ it.”

Frankie hesitated like there was more she wanted to say, but you nudged her. There was no point in you both getting on Negan’s bad side. Frankie was smarter than that, she hadn’t survived this long by being a brat at every turn. So like a good wife she nodded and made her act of defiance the reassuring shoulder squeeze she gave you before she left. Negan looked at Tanya, daring her to speak. She kept her eyes down and her mouth shut.

Negan sighed and started pacing the room, rubbing his face as he turned to face you. “Is there anything you want to tell me before the good doctor gives you your examination?”

“Like what?”

He sprung forward, leaning on the arm of the chair so his face was level with yours. “I don’t know, like _maybe_ you had an IUD shoved up there years before this all happened and _conveniently_ forgot about it.”

You stared right back, no longer frightened of him like you used to be. Six months of being his ‘wife’ had desensitized you to those intense eyes. “You think I’ve been fucking you with contraception all this time and just faking it?”

“Well considering your first plea to save Daryl’s life was to marry me _without_ the whole kid thing, I’d say it’s becoming more plausible every time you start raining blood. I should’ve had you tested when you first got here but being the _trusting husband_ that I am, I thought: how could that sweet face lie to me?”

He grabbed your chin, tilting your face up to expose your throat which he’d been peppering with bruises the last couple of weeks. From the old yellow smears that were almost invisible now to the dark purple bruise he’d left last night. He was getting more frustrated the longer your tests kept coming back negative but until today, that frustration had been manifesting in ways you’d _both_ enjoyed. Apparently this result was the last straw.

Frankie cleared her throat from the doorway. “He says he’s ready. He can do the preliminary stuff now and if he needs to do anything else, he’ll write a list of what he needs.”

Negan didn’t bother looking around, he just tightened his grip on your chin. “Well?”

“I’m not lying,” you insisted, staring him dead in the eye. He couldn’t help smiling a little. It turned him on when you stood up to him, and if you were being honest with yourself you quite liked it.

“We’ll see… Tanya, make sure she gets there alright,” he ordered, walking over to Frankie and standing behind her, his lips brushing against her ear. He murmured in her ear, quiet enough so you knew it was just for her but loud enough that both you and Tanya knew she hadn’t gotten away with her earlier outburst. “ _You and I need to have a little chat.”_

* * *

Carson pulled on his gloves while you sat back on the chair with your legs spread and just a small sheet draped over your hips to allow you a little modesty. Lubrication sputtered onto the speculum that you were trying your best to ignore.

“Any pain or discomfort during sex?” Carson asked, providing you with a small distraction rather than leaving the questions for later.

“No,” you answered hoarsely, while Tanya sat on a chair in the corner and gave you a reassuring smile.

“Good. This might feel a bit uncomfortable,” he said, taking the seat next to you and pushing your legs slightly wider so that the speculum slipped in easier. He pushed it in and widened the mouth before you had time to adjust but at least he was fast. “Well, everything looks healthy. Are your periods normal?”

“Yeah,” you said, closing your eyes so you didn’t have to watch him sticking the brush inside. It was only a few seconds before the pressure eased up and he’d pulled the speculum back out. He was good at his job.

“I’m going to analyse this and see if the cells are healthy,” he explained, sealing the sample in a sterile tube. He set a box of tissues down beside you and walked over to his work bench, giving you some privacy to clean up. “If they are, and we’re hoping they are, we can do some more tests around the time you—”

It was Daryl.

In the last six months you’d caught maybe a glimpse of the back of his head a couple of times, but you’d never been so close to him. You’d never seen the long-since healed scars that crawled up the left side of his face, thankfully just avoiding his eye. He seemed to be thinking the same thing because he put his head down, trying to stop you from seeing it.

He needn’t have bothered because your vision went blurry, eyes welling up at the sight of him. You choked out his name and held out your hand, silently begging him to close the gap for you. He glanced up through his hair, his eyes darting to Carson and then to Tanya and finally back to your hand. He swallowed hard and took a few steps back and as you got a better look at him, you realised he was cradling his arm. His bloody arm. You jumped off the bed but he rushed out of the room and Tanya stepped between you and the door before you could reach him, leaving Carson to follow him into the corridor.

“He’ll be fine. Carson will stitch him up.”

“Let me out!” you snapped but as you tried to shove past her she grabbed your arms and squeezed so tight it hurt.

 _“Is that…?”_ you heard Carson ask.

_“Nah.”_

_“Look at me. Do I need to amputate?”_

Your stomach dropped. There was only one reason he’d need to amputate.

He’d been bitten.

Tanya had slapped her hand over your mouth and shoved you further into the office before you could react. You hadn’t noticed the familiar sound of Simon’s thuds getting closer but Tanya was all about staying safe. She’d heard it. And she knew that if Simon saw you and Daryl in the same place, he’d go straight to Negan with a huge smile on his face as he reported you both. It wasn’t you who’d end up being punished. It’d be Daryl.

Once Simon was gone, Carson ushered Daryl back into the room. “You need to leave. I have another patient.”

“Were you bitten?” you asked, only for Carson to block your view of Daryl.

“You need to leave. _Now_ ,” he repeated and Tanya dragged you away, leading you back to the harem.

“You’ll see him, alright? We’ll make it happen,” she whispered, “but we’ve got to be smart about it.”

* * *

You’d been standing by the window for the best part of two hours while the girls chatted behind you, trying to keep up some sense of normality. Every now and again they’d ask your opinion on something you hadn’t been listening to and you’d just hum in response. The sun was taking its sweet ass time to set while you tried to stop torturing yourself with questions you couldn’t answer. And the worst question of all: what if they hadn’t amputated in time?

_What if all you could do was stand here waiting for darkness to fall while he died alone in his room?_

You hadn’t acknowledged Negan when he came into the room and it was starting to piss him off. After half an hour of flirting with his other wives, joking loudly and eventually making comments about you, all with zero response, he pulled Tanya to one side.

“She been like this the whole time?” he muttered, keeping his voice low so you couldn’t hear. Not that you were paying any attention anyway.

“What did you expect? She’s been good to you and you just shit all over her,” Tanya hissed back. Negan’s brows shot up.

“ _Tanya_! Do I need to wash your pretty little mouth out?” he grinned. She smiled a little, pretending she was trying to hide it. Playing the sweet, nurturing role had its perks; it meant Negan never suspected her of manipulating him. “What did Carson say?”

“Not much, just took some samples. He wants to do a more invasive test tomorrow but he said she can’t have sex for 24 hours before he does it. We didn’t ask him to go into details but I’m guessing your little swimmers would tamper with the results. So… maybe that means I’ll get more than just a quickie with you for once?”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were gettin’ a little jealous.”

She laughed and looked away. It was amazing how she’d learned to blush on command and Negan bought right into it. “Well, I didn’t think I’d miss our nights together as much as I do.”

He beamed, leaning backwards and soaking up the praise. “You’re killing me here!”

“Just… give her a bit of space,” Tanya whispered and leaned into him. “She’ll get over it.”

* * *

By the time Negan came to get Tanya, darkness had already fallen. You were lying on the sofa facing the window, staring at the moon grinning back at you. You weren’t sure if it was a comforting smile or if it was a cruel laugh. It changed minute by minute – sometimes you imagined it smiling, telling you that everything was going to be alright. Daryl had been maimed for a second time but he’d survive – of course he would. But a minute later the crescent moon would turn to malice, laughing because he was already dead and you were all alone now. You’d ruined him.

It was a strange thing to imagine while you flip-flopped between optimism and pessimism but it was better to make up stories about the moon than it was to imagine what might have become of Daryl in the time you’d wasted waiting for it to be safe.

When Negan finally came to get Tanya, your heart skipped a beat. You sat up, eager to finally get out of this claustrophobic room but luck wasn’t on your side. Despite Tanya waiting for Negan by the door, he came and sat next to you on the sofa. _Of all the times to show some compassion, not fucking now!_

He sighed and rested his arm on the back of the sofa, taking his time like he always fucking did. Savouring every minute of the spotlight while all you could do was scream inside your head, over and over again: LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE.

“Look… maybe I was a bit hard on you this morning,” he grimaced, like a child being forced to apologise. “I’m sure whatever tests the good doctor’s performing aren’t your idea of a good time. Now Tanya over there is looking beautiful and it’s been too long since I spent a proper night with her… but to show you how _sincerely_ sorry I am, I’m willing to spend the night with you instead. No funny business – even though I _really_ like our funny business. I know you can’t tonight. So, what d’you say? I’ll keep my dick in my pants and you and me can spend some quality time together as husband and wife.”

Your blood ran cold. You stared at him, wanting to beat that stupid fucking grin off his face. Finally, you said in a quiet, dangerous voice: “Are you fucking serious?”

You could see in his eyes he was taken aback. Your voice had taken on an edge he’d never heard before and Tanya and Frankie shared a worried look. You liked it. They were scared, even Negan was shocked. It felt powerful. Now you knew why your darling bastard husband loved it so much.

“I know you must be—” Negan started, but as soon as you saw him trying to fix that smile back on his face, you cut him off mid-sentence. Something that _no one_ dared to do.

You got to your feet, gaining the height advantage. “You think I’d want to spend a single fucking SECOND with you tonight?! Tell me Negan, when are you gonna get YOUR fucking _fertility_ test?”

He jumped to his feet, his face close to yours and filled with disgust. The silence and hardness of his eyes stripped your power away, but did nothing to calm your anger. After a few long seconds of everyone holding their breath, he spat two words at you before walking away.

“Not. Okay.”

* * *

You ran to the infirmary first. It was empty but for a few bloodied bandages left in the bin. Your stomach churned at the lack of a limb, but it wasn’t like Daryl’s arm would be waving hi to you from the trash can. If they _had_ amputated, it’d be out in a skip. Or maybe they’d feed it to the walkers outside. The logical part of you knew that but your rational mind wasn’t in the driving seat right now. Your heart was telling you that no limb equalled no amputation, which meant they were too late.

Only one way to find out. You ran to his room.

Negan had made sure you knew exactly where Daryl’s room was. He’d acted like he was doing you a favour by showing you how well Daryl was being treated – but you both knew the unspoken truth. He wanted you to know where the room was so that it’d drive you mad, knowing he was so close when you weren’t allowed to go to him.

Negan had paraded you around the room, taking great pleasure in making you imagine Daryl’s life in these new quarters – and what he might’ve had to do to earn them.

“You know, when Daryl was my prisoner the first time, he never came out of the hole. I offered him _all of this_ ,” he’d said, holding his arms out and turning like he was soaking in the Sistine Chapel instead of the bleak cabin room he’d crammed you into, “and he still turned me down. I respected him for that. Sure, it was a dumbass decision and we beat the shit out of him for it but he OWNED that crap!”

You didn’t want to play his games that day. You’d stood with your back to the wall, staring down at the carpet while you waited for him to finish his latest brand of mental torment.

“I just wanna thank you, sincerely,” he’d said as he closed in on you, “for giving him the motivation he needed to get his shit together and join the winning team.”

He’d stared at you expectantly, but when you refused to lift your eyes from the floor he put his hands on your hips and dipped his head to reclaim your attention. “Hey… you wanna fool around on his bed? Christen it for him?”

“Not really.”

“You sure?” he’d grinned. “Cos I can guarantee he’s gonna be bringing his women back here. Don’t want it collapsing on him in the middle of doing the dirty. We’d be doing him a service testing it out first.”

“You really think he’d be interested in _any_ of the Saviours? You don’t know him very well.”

“And you don’t know how hungry a man gets…”

He tipped your head back, forcing you to look up at him. His face was serious and sensual at the same time. The look that pulled you in and made you hate yourself for it. When he continued, his lips were so close to yours that you could feel his breath.

“ _Which is why_ …” he muttered, leaning into you and smirking the way he always did when he knew he was turning you on.

Then he took two large steps back and bellowed, “I GAVE him a microwave! I mean a man’s gotta eat and trust me, as one of my new best men he’s gonna be _hungry_.”

He’d ignored your scowl, not letting you leave until he’d talked you through every single appliance.

It'd been cruel at the time, but now you were grateful.

You knocked quickly, keeping an eye out for anyone turning the corner. There was no answer. You knocked again, louder this time.

_“Daryl? It’s me. It’s Y/N.”_

Still nothing. Your heart sank when you considered that you might be too late. He might already be gone. If he’d turned in that room you’d be fucked, because you didn’t have a weapon to defend yourself. But then again, if Daryl had turned, you weren’t sure you’d want to defend yourself anymore.

You twisted the handle and let yourself in.

He wasn’t there. All the equipment – microwave, stereo, gaming console – it was all perfectly clean. Exactly like it had been the day Negan had shown it to you, the morning before Daryl had moved in. The only difference was that the bed had been stripped and the sheets dumped in the corner, like they were waiting to be laundered for the next poor soul Negan got his fist around. There was no trace of Daryl.

None at all.


	6. Chapter 6

You’d lost track of time, wrapped in Daryl’s abandoned sheets with your face buried in his pillow. It smelt like musk and sweat. Like Daryl. Minutes ticked by, your grief turning to numbness as you tried to come to terms with a world without Daryl. A world where you were trapped in the Sanctuary, a slave to Negan every night until you bore him a child. A child he’d raise to be as cruel and sadistic as he was.

The thought of everything Negan had taken from you – Glenn, Abraham, Daryl and soon your own child – was enough to turn your numbness to fury. To determination.

Fuck the Saviours.

Fuck Negan.

It was hard enough carrying on without Abraham’s stupid jokes and wide smile. Without Glenn’s kindness and level-head. But without Daryl? That was what made you snap. You were fiercely loyal of him to a fault – the last six months of sleeping with the enemy had taught you that. _Daryl couldn’t die._ You’d really believed that. And now you were sitting on his floor, hugging his pillow and wishing it was him.

Negan mustn’t know yet. That was the only explanation as to why he hadn’t rubbed it in your face. No one would dare interrupt him while he was fucking one of his wives, so if it’d just happened then he’d have no idea.

_Which meant he wouldn’t see you coming._

You jumped up and went straight to the kitchen cupboards, rifling through the drawers for anything you could use as a weapon, but the sharpest thing Daryl owned was a butter knife and that wasn’t enough. You considered biding your time and waiting until you could get your hands on a real weapon but once Negan learned Daryl was gone, he’d be watching you like a hawk. It had to be now.

You slammed the drawer shut and opened the cupboards. You were in such a rage that you almost missed the bottle abandoned at the back. It looked like wine but the contents didn’t matter. Once you’d poured it out and shattered the bottom, the jagged edges would make for a semi-decent weapon. It was the best you’d found so far but before you could grab it, you heard a voice getting closer.

_Simon._

You ran to the bathroom and shut the door behind you, flicking the lock as quietly as you could. Like you’d dreaded, his footsteps stopped outside Daryl’s door.

_“—something like this happens again, you gotta deal with it. That’s not the way we handle things.”_

You looked around the tiny bathroom, wishing your eyes would adjust to the darkness faster. Your hands found the edge of the sink and you fumbled against the wall above it, trying to find a cabinet that didn’t exist. Your ears were straining, waiting to hear Simon’s voice get louder once he came inside. Your elbow knocked something off the edge of the sink that clattered to the floor but fortunately the noise was covered up by the sound of Daryl’s door rattling.

_“Why’s it locked?”_

Shit. You’d locked Daryl’s door and it was a turn lock. Which meant it had to be locked _from the inside_. Even hiding in the bathroom, it was obvious someone was still in the room. They had to be. Simon would catch you in seconds – long before you could get to Negan.

You got to your hands and knees, searching the floor for whatever you’d knocked over. Whoever Simon was talking to mumbled something barely audible and after a few brief moments, Daryl’s lock clicked loudly and the door was open. Your eyes started to adjust just enough to make out a vague shape and for the first time in what felt like months, you finally got lucky. It was a razor. A straight razor.

It wasn’t much; in fact it probably wouldn’t be enough to kill them before they could overpower you. Didn’t mean you couldn’t go out swinging. You pulled the blade out and stood with your back flat against the wall, staring at the door handle beside you. You thought you heard the door to Daryl’s room being closed but Simon was being silent now. As much as you strained to hear something, there wasn’t anything to hear.

Moments passed and you started to doubt yourself. Maybe they _hadn’t_ opened the door. Maybe they’d gone straight to Negan, or to find a crowbar to prise it open instead. You lowered the razor. This could be your only chance to get to Negan and you couldn’t waste it.

Just as you were about to move, the bathroom lock buckled under a heavy kick and the door burst open. You were grabbed from behind, head yanked back to expose your throat. The cold blade pressed against it was accompanied by sharp, feral grunts you could’ve recognised in your sleep.

_“Daryl?”_

There was a long pause. Your heart pounded and eventually, he pulled away. When you turned, you saw him. His face was matted with scars, his arm was bandaged and he was looking at you like you were a trap. But you didn’t care about any of that; you ran straight to him and wrapped your arms around him.

_“I thought you were dead!”_

You’d been trying to keep it together but now that relief ran through you, you couldn’t stop yourself crying. He didn’t hug you back, just held your shoulders and after giving you a few seconds, gently pushed you away. His thumb brushed against your neck. At first you thought it was a sweet gesture; it took you a moment to remember Negan had left bruises where his mouth had been. Daryl dropped his hand, turning away while you composed yourself.

_“The hell you doing here?”_ he mumbled, walking away from you and putting his knife back in its sheath.

“Your arm…” was all you managed to blurt out as you followed him further into the room.

He was silent for a moment, looking around the room at the sheets you’d disturbed and the cupboard you’d left open. “So you went through my shit?”

“I was looking for a weapon,” you said, taking a tentative step closer. You decided not to tell him that you’d been cradling his stuff as if it was him. “I thought you were dead. The room looks empty; your sheets were on the floor—”

“That’s where I sleep,” he snapped, leaving you silent for a moment while you tried to make sense of things.

“…Why don’t you sleep in the bed?”

He turned his head, not enough to see you but enough to sense you. Not enough for you to see _him_ – and you were starting to feel like that was the point. “I ain’t one of them. I don’t want their shit. I don’t want their bed or their radio or their goddamn microwave. I don’t want none of it.”

He didn’t say it but the accusation was there in his voice and you weren’t about to let it go. “Because you’re so much better than _me_ , right? You still sleep on their sheets.”

“These sheets are mine, found ‘em abandoned. I ain’t like you. I don’t drink their wine and wear their clothes and fuck Negan whenever he damn well feels like it.”

“Negan again?! Are you ever gonna let this drop?!” you snapped and he finally turned to face you – more out of anger than intention.

“You ever make it hard on him? Huh?! Guy claims he ain’t no rapist so what the FUCK are you screwing him for?!”

“FOR YOU, YOU DUMB FUCK! In case you forgot, I’m doing this to save your goddamn life!”

“WELL I AIN’T ASKED YOU TO!”

“WELL I’M DOING IT ANYWAY! I FUCKING NEED YOU!” you screamed back, finally shutting him up.

He stared at you, breathing hard but waiting for an explanation. You were more than a little embarrassed but it was too late to take it back now. “You don’t get to die. Not you. It was selfish, alright? I saved your life because I want you alive.

“I was looking for a weapon so I could kill Negan and as many others as I could take down because I thought _you_ weren’t here anymore. I spent the whole fucking day terrified out of my mind because you might be turning and I couldn’t get to you. Do you have _any idea_ what that feels like?! So stop judging me and throwing Negan in my face because it’s about you. It’s always been about you.”

After your little speech, his continued silence was embarrassing. You couldn’t blame him, you’d humiliated yourself by making it sound romantic when it wasn’t. He probably felt more uncomfortable than you did.

“What the hell happened to your arm?” you asked, keeping your voice firm as if nothing had happened.

“Just some dumb kid,” he answered, still not taking his eyes off you, “tryna be a hero.”

You’d never noticed how intense his eye-contact could be. It could rival Negan’s. You managed to keep your voice steady but you needed to break the atmosphere, so you sat on the floor with your back to the wall. “Which group?”

Daryl sighed and relented as well, sitting down opposite you with his back against the foot of the bed. He shook his head to make his hair fall in front of the scarred side of his face. You pretended you hadn’t noticed.

“Found a new one. Dwight shot one of ‘em, teachin’ ‘em Negan’s fucked up rules. Kid went nuts; tried to bite a chunk off my arm. Think the others were in shock… was a damn mess.”

“The kid alright?”

“Yeah. Had to hit her to get her off but she’ll live. Didn’t break nothing.”

You could see the toll this was taking on him. Trying to balance keeping the Saviours happy without losing himself in the process. His shoulders were hunched and he kept picking at his fingers, which you could see now looked sore. Raw and full of cuts where he’d been pulling the skin away. The guilt of what he had to do was eating him up and imaging you in Negan’s bed every night because of him probably only made it worse. “Are _you_ alright Daryl?”

He nodded slowly, his eyes softer now. Aside from the night he’d spent back in Alexandria, this was the first time you’d talked properly since Negan first made an appearance. It must’ve been almost a year ago. He glanced at the door and you knew he was thinking the same thing. This was stolen time. It was against the rules.

“I’ve done a lot of shit but I ain’t killed no one. Can’t make me do that.”

“You might have to one day.”

“Nah,” was all he said, staring you dead in the eye. You knew what that meant. He’d take the bullet himself before he killed an innocent.

At least one of you had some morals left.

“Where did Simon go?” you asked. You’d just got Daryl back; you didn’t want to think about losing him again.

“Them locks ain’t hard, just use a coin or something to turn it. Told him I locked it from the outside. Let him see me unlock it so he wouldn’t doubt it.”

You nodded, realising that his quick thinking had probably saved your life.

“Listen, I’m sorry,” you said, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. “I’ve been a dick. And… I’m sorry I put us in this position in the first place. I just couldn’t stand to see you—”

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

You felt sick in the pit of your stomach as both you and Daryl jumped to your feet. You’d heard Lucille often enough in your nightmares to recognise the sound now.

“Daaaaryl,” Negan crooned. “I think you’ve got something that belongs to me. About so high. White dress. Empty as a spayed cow.”

The two of you shared a look before Daryl opened the door and stood to one side, eyes on the ground. Negan soaked in Daryl’s submissive stance for a moment, before he let out a soft laugh and walked into the room with Lucille resting on his shoulders.

“Now _there’s_ my Grade-A bitch of a wife! Now I _know_ I didn’t give you permission to see Daryl today so d’you wanna explain why you’re bothering one of my best soldiers?”

“I thought—”

“That I was with Tanya tonight? That I didn’t see through the little set-up you tried to play off? You think I can’t tell the difference between Tanya’s fake flirting and when she MEANS IT?! And you overplayed the part of the spurned housewife so hard I thought I’d walked into an amateur dramatics class. But then… thinking your ex-boyfriend started eating people will have that effect, won’t it?”

You opened your mouth to say something but he’d already figured out everything you’d done. He seemed to be revelling in your shock but you were more concerned with how much trouble you were in. Or how much trouble you’d put _Daryl_ in.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his hand move to his knife. But you kept your focus trained on Negan. “Look, Daryl had nothing to do with this. He didn’t know I was coming—”

“Daryl? Now what are you worrying about Daryl for? See I spoke to Carson, I know exactly what happened,” Negan boomed, turning back to Daryl and putting an arm over his shoulder, leading him further into the room. He didn’t drop his arm though, and you could see Daryl’s chest heaving with the effort of fighting off every instinct to attack Negan on the spot. “You think I’d take it out on him? He’s been doing some great work for me. Bringing a new group into the fold… beating up a kid. He’s making himself _right_ at home! Now I know he hated to do it but he did what had to be DONE! Ain’t that right Daryl?”

I took him a few seconds to push his anger to one side and nod. Negan watched every moment of Daryl’s struggle and laughed under his breath again. After that bit of fun was over he let go of Daryl and turned on you, taking your chin in his hand. “But _you_? You’ve been nothing but hard work for the last few weeks. And I’m not gonna lie, some of that work was _very_ hard…” he smirked, leaning in closer to you. His lips were almost touching yours but as much as you usually hated yourself for loving it, having Daryl in the room changed everything. Having him there made this the terrifying ordeal it was always meant to be.

_“Don’t…”_ you whispered before you could stop yourself. Negan’s grin grew wide.

“Why not? You don’t want Daryl to know what a dirty girl you are?”

Out of the corner of your eye you could see Daryl’s eyes burning holes in Negan’s head. His fingers were brushing up against the knife and it looked like he was holding himself back by a thread. Any second now he was going to make a huge mistake. But Negan wasn’t done.

“You don’t want him to know that you begged me for every one of those bruises ‘so everyone can see’? Or… maybe you don’t want him to know that the thought of _Daryl_ seeing them was what pushed you over the edge.”

You didn’t know if Daryl pulled his knife out or not. All you knew was that you had to make Negan stop talking. You grabbed his face and pulled his lips into yours, crashing together and squeezing your eyes shut tight. You were frowning into the kiss, eyes prickling with the threat of tears but Negan was smiling. When you finally pulled back, he laughed.

“Wow. Kissing me in front of your ex? That’s _cold_.”

You couldn’t look at him. You couldn’t look at either of them.

“Speaking of cold,” Negan carried on, “we haven’t even talked about your punishment yet. You didn’t think you could try to pull a scheme on me and get _away_ with that shit, did you? You know… I think you’re spoiled. I’ve given you a life of luxury and you’re forgetting what your life _used_ to be like before you married me. Maybe a couple of nights in the hole will remind you how amazing your life is right now.”

“The hole?” you asked, looking back up. He’d told you about it before. It was the place they’d kept Daryl for weeks.

“Thanks for your hospitality Daryl,” Negan grinned, slapping him on the shoulder as he headed out of the room, completely ignoring you. And Negan wasn’t the only one – Daryl wouldn’t look at you either. “Are you gonna make me whistle you like a dog or are you gonna walk out of here with some dignity?”

_Dignity._ If you had any before, you sure as hell didn’t have any now.

You followed Negan to the tiny concrete cell without another word. He was laughing about the look on Daryl’s face but you were doing your best to block it out.

When you stepped inside the hole and turned to face him, he wasn’t grinning anymore. His face was hard and serious and you knew you were skating on thin fucking ice. But you hadn’t realised just how thin it was until he said:

“Two months.”

You froze. In Daryl’s room he said you’d be in here for two days, now he was telling you _months_?! He soaked up the fear in your eyes but instead of enjoying it like usual, he remained as hard as ever. “You’ve got two months to fulfil your side of the bargain or we’re gonna have to look at this whole deal again. See, Daryl knows the rules. He knows if shit kicks off like it did with that kid, someone’s gotta spill blood for it. Now I get it, first time showing a new group how things play out is always hard but it’s got to be done – that’s how everything keeps running. Still I could forgive that if I didn’t have Simon telling me he’s not eating from our own _generous_ supplies here so I’m wondering where the hell he’s getting his food from. See, I don’t think he’s really, truly on board here. Do you?”

You didn’t know what to say, but Negan wasn’t looking for an answer. He was just pausing for effect; letting the gravity of the situation sink in. “You told me that he’d do anything for the Saviours if you were carrying my child so you better make that shit happen because I don’t trust him. You understand what I’m telling you here darlin’?”

Your mouth was dry. You just nodded in response while your heart hammered in your chest.

“Good. Because I’d hate to have to kill him but if he proves useless then I will. Now I don’t want you to think he’s getting harsher treatment just because he’s got a tiny cock between his legs and not the beautiful pussy that you have, so don’t worry. If you turn out to be useless too, you’ll both meet the same fate together.”

Before you could reply he slammed the door closed and plunged you into darkness. You pressed your hand against the door as you heard the keys turn in the lock, followed by the sound of his footsteps walking away.

So that was it. You had two months to get pregnant or you and Daryl would die. You wondered if it’d be by the iron or if Lucille would do the job. Would you be left alive to see Daryl’s shattered body before Negan broke your skull? Or would Daryl have to see yours?

Your morbid train of thought was interrupted with music blasting through speakers you didn’t even realise were in the room.

_Isn’t it a pity  
Isn’t it a shame_

It was loud and obnoxious but welcome all the same. Music might stop the boredom eating away at you. You thought it was almost generous of him – until the lyrics kicked in properly and the realisation hit you. Everything Negan did was sadistic.

_How we break each other’s hearts_  
_And cause each other pain_  
 _How we take each other’s love_  
 _Without thinking anymore_  
 _Forgetting to give back_  
 _Isn’t it a pity_

The thin strip of light at the bottom of the door went dark. You panicked for a moment, until you realised it was someone’s shadow. The music had masked the sound of footsteps.

“Daryl?”

You lay on the floor, looking under the tiny gap to see the over-worn boots that belonged to him. You slammed your hand down twice on the door and called his name again.

But he turned away and left you without saying a word, while the music kept taunting you.

_Now, isn’t it a pity._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you wanted to listen to the song, it's here: https://youtu.be/ikD7u7zJdOY
> 
> Thanks for being so patient with me guys! There'll be smut in the next chapter to say thank you ;)


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